Mothersday
by BrownieMelody
Summary: The story of the newsies and what their mother's were like. Unfortunalty, it's a sad, sad story to tell, but someone must do it. . .


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HAPPY MOTHERSDAY! (well. . .tomorrow at least!)  
  
Hey everyone! It's Brownie! It's kinda funny, I have weeks of writers block on the stories I actually WANT to write, but then out of the blue, I come up with this idea and put in down in fifteen minutes flat! Jeese...Maybe I should do my history homework more often and then I'll get inspiration!  
  
This story is dedicated to all the great mums out there who birthed us all! Unfortunately, the newsies didn't have as good of an experience as I have with my mother (most of the time, when she's not being psycho!) Here are the stories of them and their mothers, what happened to them, where they went, and why the boys left home. Hope you enjoy!  
  
Mush  
  
Yeah, I remember me muddah. Barely, but I do. She was pretty, real pretty ya know? She had...brown hair. I remembah dat. Brown hair, dat she always wore up. I remembah dat all right.  
  
And her hands. She had da most beautiful hands I eva saw. She played da piano. She was downright good. My pa says dat she used to put me on 'er lap, and play for me. I don't remember her doin that, but I remember her music. She played classical stuff, I tink. I don really know, but it sounded so sophisticated, so beautiful-like her. The piano was brown, and big-I couldn't even reach the keys. That darn piano was so old too. All creaky and covered in scratched. But mama could get that old crone to sing for 'er like no other. At parties, everyone would crowd around her and beg her to play. My pa would push 'er over to dat old piano, and she'd sit down and play. I remember looking down from da stairs and watching 'er play while everybody crowded round 'er and sang a long. She looked so happy when she played.  
  
Den she got sick. I don remember when she stopped playin' exactly, I jus remembah dat after a while, I realized dat she wasn't doin it no more. Dat's when I really realized something was wrong wid 'er. Pa kept tellin' me not ta worry, dat she'd be all right, and I believed him. I was only about 5, I didn't know about death. I wish I had. When she died, I didn't really know what was goin' on. I jist knew dat momma wasn't dere no more.  
  
And I remembah dat old piano. It stood firmly in our livin room for months after she was gone. No one would touch it, and no one wanted to move it. It jus sat dere, collecting dust on it's ivory keys. I remembah Pa jus sitting in da room, staring at dat ol' piano. He wouldn't move, not even when I called to him. He jus sat dere.  
  
Den, one day, when I was really missing 'er, I climbed up on da old stool, and sat down in front of the keys. It was just like she was dere. I tentatively rested my hands on the keys, and felt the dust that had collected there. I pushed down. The sound of the note rang through my house. I pressed again. Again it sounded. Again and again I continued to press, as tears started streaming down my face. I pounded on the keys, releasing all of the anger that I had into the piano. The sound was deafening, but I didn't know. All I knew was dat she was gone, and I hated that. I pounded and pounded until my Pa came inside and scooped me up in his arms. I cried and cried to him and he cried too. He told me he loved me, but I didn't care.  
  
I remembah when dey tried to take it. Pa had gotten tired of the haunting presence of dat 'ol piano. He finally got the heart to get rid of it. He called some of his buddies to help him move it. I remember seeing dem come in, and Pa bringing 'em over to da piano. My mother's piano. They were trying to touch my mother's piano, the little piece of her dat I still had. When da first man tried to touch it, I ran at them, screaming. My Pa was appalled, but I didn't care. He was goin to let 'em take it, take her away. I hated him for it.  
  
I remembah dat was da last day I saw dat old piano.  
  
And dat was the day I left home.  
  
I never looked back. My father betrayed me muddah when he took dat piano away, and I don't tink I could eva face 'im again.

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(tear) How'd ya like it? (sniffle) I just thought of this so I don't know how long I'm going to spend on this, but I do know that it'll probably go longer than mother's day!  
  
R&R! please?! Tell me what ya thought! Also, I wanna know who else ya want to hear about! I've already decided on doing these,  
  
Jack  
Blink  
Race  
  
But who else? Tell me and you will...get a sticker! YAY! Who doesn't like stickers? I DO! YAY! So-see ya later!  
  
Toodles,  
  
Brownie 

p.s.- YA KNOW WHAT! the new fanfiction editing thing is SO COOL! Finnally I can use italics and underline and center stuff and all sorts of fun things! WOHOO!! I'm excited. I don't have to upload about 6 times to get my story formated right! YAY!! 

BYE BYE!!


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